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* * * * *

It all came back to him. Envy's lips on his, their soft, pliant insistence … the way he rested the tip of his tongue on Greed's lower lip … the thread of saliva that hung between them as Envy pulled his head away …

It brought it all back.

Greed pushed Envy away, held him from his body at arm's length. Envy's eyes widened in surprise for a moment, and then he smiled, all coy and radiant and confident, the way Greed remembered him. "Now, Greed …"

Greed slapped him.

Envy shot back, hand to his stinging cheek.

"I'm not falling for that," Greed snarled.

He was angry – angrier than he'd been all evening; to feel Envy's lips on his again … "If you think you can stick a knife in my soft spot – "

Envy interrupted him. "Greed!" His voice was breathy and his eyes were wide. In the darkness it was hard to tell, but Greed thought he detected anxiety there. "Greed – I can be anyone you want me to be – isn't that enough?"

Greed felt the knife twist a little more. There was desperation in Envy's voice, no wheedling, no prying. But he threw that thought away – another trick. Envy was tricky. He turned.

"Nothing's ever enough."

And that was true – the hunger was omnipresent – insatiable.

"Why?" Envy demanded furiously. "Why am I not enough?"

Greed stared at him, as though seeing him for the first time. For all his scheming, for all his duplicity and his double-crosses, Envy was simple in the extreme. Beneath the surface beat a single-mindedness, pulsing as a human heart pulsed.

Pointlessly.

Indifferently.

Envy …

* * * * *

Envy hadn't expected to be rejected like this. He hadn't really expected anything – he'd just done it, without thinking about it. Greed was always hungry. It was in his nature. And while Envy couldn't expect to be all or anything to Greed, he'd thought that … maybe … Greed would be hungry enough, for him, just once, this one last time …

And suddenly Envy was angry, too. His anger burst across his vision like red ink splashed across a page. Fuck Greed and his reservations, his languid pride. This shit was too complicated for him. Greed was huge and he was tiny and he wanted … something … Dante … He lunged forward and caught Greed's mouth in a second kiss, hasty and afraid that Greed would push him away, afraid that he would deny him.

Greed did nothing.

Didn't push him away, didn't pull him close, didn't react at all, and then Envy was angrier, eyes still closed, angry that he didn't pull away, not even that much, kept kissing, oh, gods, he was angry now, so angry … and he fell away when Greed refused him, eyes closed, he was crying now, hit his head against the wall, once, twice, again and again, why was he so stupid? Why couldn't anything ever work out for –

Greed slammed against him, grabbed him by the shoulders and ordered him to open his eyes.

"Envy."

"Yes," Envy gasped, thrilled and terrified at the expression on Greed's face, at the violent proximity of their bodies.

Greed raised one hand and tightened his hold on Envy with the other. "Let me get this through your head: I don't want you."

"Well, why not?" demanded Envy, and when Greed met him with vicious silence, his voice burst from him in an angry scream. "Why not, Greed?"

Greed gave him a long look; no one could do length quite like Greed.

"Run back home to Dante, Envy. You've failed. She might not kill you."

Envy lunged at him; Greed caught the movement and slammed his fist into Envy's face. Envy fell under the blow and collapsed to his knees in front of Greed. He grasped at his hand.

Oh, gods, what was he doing? He didn't know what he was doing … all he knew … was that he wanted …

"Greed …" he moaned miserably. Greed tried to retract his hand but Envy held on all the more tightly; his fingers trembled but his grip was insistent. Desperate. "Greed … You might not want me, but I know you want this." He pressed his face to Greed's bare stomach; he could taste salt, and carbon, and the metallic tinge of earth. He could taste him breathing. He let Greed's hand go, reached his fingers up to Greed's belt, unlatched the buckle.

Greed seized Envy's arms and pulled him to his feet, to face-level in one furious jerk.

"Greed," moaned Envy, speaking before Greed could deny him again, insult him, "I can do anything, Greed – I can be anyone. You said it yourself – you want everything, you're always hungry … want me, Greed! Just for a little while – want me for just … just for ten minutes, Greed, please!"

Greed laughed again; Envy could feel its rumble in his belly, but when their eyes locked, Greed's were cold. "Does Dante want you, Envy? Of course she doesn't. You're useful, we both know you're useful, and she uses you happily, but she doesn't want you like she wanted me, like she wanted him."

Envy shook his head frantically – how had he gotten himself into this? "Alright, fine – she doesn't! That's what you want to hear, right?"

"Say it slowly."

Envy took a deep breath. "Dante doesn't want me."

The syllables fell around his ears as though they were coming from someone else, far away ...

* * * * *

"Dante doesn't want me."

No, Dante doesn't want you – and how dare you come here to me, pretending that I'm the one you want, just so you can get those scraps from Dante's table?

How dare you try to trick me?

How dare you try to pull such a stupid stunt – on ME, of all people! How dare you think you can satisfy ME!

Greed was going to hurt him, the worst way he knew how. "No, she doesn't." Greed leaned in and brushed his lips against that special little hollow behind Envy's ear. "And neither do I. So change for me, Envy. Change."

Do you want to know what it feels like, Envy? What my prison did to me? That emptiness – that darkness – nothing. I'll let you feel what it was like – oblivion. The same pain I feel.

Greed had anticipated the anger that flooded through Envy's body, and adjusted his grip accordingly. He watched the rage grow with grim satisfaction – Envy's small body seemed to swell with indignation, but he wasn't going to get caught in Envy's web, not again. He would make him angry – too angry to think.

Which was easy enough to do.

"Change," he whispered, leaning in close and whispering in that delicate ear, nipping at the jawline of that fey face, "You know who I'm chasing, don't you? You've seen him before. Don't think I didn't notice – you hate him, more than you hate me, I'm certain. Turn into him, Envy – face me as a worthy opponent."

He could see the insult work its way through Envy's body; every muscle tensed beneath his hands. And his eyes, when he finally looked up at Greed, were hard, shuttered. But Envy complied suddenly, so suddenly that Greed wondered if he had made a mistake.

"Take your hands off me."

Greed made a gentlemanly show of releasing him.

Envy straightened himself out, then he cocked his head, rolled his shoulders once, twice, and in a flicker of second – as though it hurt less to do it faster – he changed.

Greed scanned the new body at his leisure. It seemed to match what he knew of the Elric boy. He was stockier, and a little shorter. His shoulders were firmer and wider, his spine was straight and his stance was proud, not loose and languid. He wore different clothes, of course, and his face had hardened into a more conventionally masculine model, quite unlike Envy's fey, angular features.

And his eyes. That was the most startling change, those eyes. They'd became soft, a kind of butter-yellow. They were light and bright and sparkling.

They were warm.

But the set of his jaw and the cruel smile on the lips was enough to dispel the illusion that Greed was looking at Edward Elric.

"I won't ask you why," the Edward clone hissed. "I know why you're doing this to me."

Greed fished around for a clever answer and came up short. "Do you?"

"You're doing it to hurt me."

"Don't flatter yourself. If all I had to worry about these days was – "

Envy's hands came out of nowhere – they gripped him hard on both sides of his long, strong jaw, one human and one metal. The metal one hurt, pinched the flesh, but that was only an illusion, too – underneath the immediate sensation of alloy, it was only Envy. "Shut up. I'm doing my part of the bargain – you've humiliated me, very neatly. Congratulations. Now you shut up and do yours."

There was a flash of Envy in Edward's expression, and then Envy's mouth came up to Greed's, hot and hungry and panting for more.

And Greed couldn't pretend that that mouth didn't feel amazing on his, the way it fought against his suddenly eager lips for dominance, for play. Couldn't Greed just … let go? He knew he'd hate himself afterwards, and hate Envy all the more, but he'd set up the rules, hadn't he? He'd humiliated him and embarrassed him, beaten him down – surely now he was safe to just … let go? Surely Envy couldn't hurt him any more… surely he was the one in control …

He let go of his reservations as Envy's – Edward's – lips closed down on his once more.

* * * * *

Envy felt something change. Greed's body stirred against him, warmed to him the way it used to. Envy gasped against Greed's weight, Greed's heat; he dug his fingers into Greed's skin as the man pushed him against the wall and began to kiss his way down his jawline. Envy didn't have a god, and Envy didn't pray, but this was exactly what he'd have prayed for, if he did. Despite the crippling pain of humiliation in his stomach, Greed's lips and limbs felt amazing as they pressed up against this new body, manipulated it. He didn't know what he wanted or why he wanted it but Greed wanted him and that was all that registered at the moment …

And when Greed pushed him down onto the broken sofa and began to rip away his clothes, who was he to protest?

* * * * *

Greed felt joy in the supple slipperiness of the body that was nothing like Envy's or Dante, but something new and fresh. He felt his own cock harden as that gaze – golden, smouldering, with only a hint of Envy flickering behind the eyes – caught his. Heart suddenly tight and eager in his chest, Greed ran his hands over that body, and when it pushed him back on the couch and lowered its head to his already-loosened waistline … ah.

The heat of the boy's mouth was phenomenal. Greed's head fell back against the back of the couch and he only just remembered to his keep his hands tight on Envy's shoulders, in case he meant to try something. Greed closed his eyes against the golden hair and the golden eyes and the rich, tanned skin and felt only the tongue wrapped lovingly around his cock. The boy's mouth moved slowly, carefully, but that was all a ruse and as his tongue picked up the pace they fell into a pattern of movement that was suddenly achingly familiar: the flicker of tongue, the confident pull and suck of the lips – it was Envy's mouth. And just this once, Greed felt free to love the feel of it.

"Enough," he groaned, when he felt his hips seize with electric pressure.

The mouth pulled away, and Edward's body allowed Greed to position himself at his entrance. Greed stared down at the body, panting in expectation.

Is this what you want, Envy? You really just want me to use you like this? Just like the old days?

The golden eyes flashed inwards for a moment, and his mouth gasped for air as Greed took his weeping member in hand and pushed himself, not ungently, into the tight passage. Edward's mouth moved but no sound came out. Greed's entire body surged forward in one great hot shiver and, losing the last vestiges of self-control, he began to move against the body.

The cries and gasps – soft, but audible – of that body as he pumped into it again and again were heart-wrenchingly familiar, even if the voice was deeper, even if the eyes were the wrong colour and too sweet.

Oh, God, Envy – I missed you. I missed what you do to me.

Because haircolour notwithstanding, his body couldn't be fooled – his body knew that this was Envy. The way his arms moved or resisted moving … It brought back a wave of nostalgia, it reminded Greed of fearless Envy, of brash and angry Envy, long ago, before the imprisonment. Envy didn't change. And he still hadn't tried anything, hadn't tried to hurt him – and Greed thought maybe, just maybe, the boy was capable of feeling something other than rage for thirty seconds together …

Greed was nearing his climax when he noticed it: Envy's skin shivered in that strange, unnatural way, almost imperceptibly. The colour of his hair – was it just a shadow? And then Envy gripped him by the shoulders and forced him to meet his eyes.

"No," rasped Greed, but it was too late – he was too close, and it felt too good to be buried in that body, that body that had given itself up to him, begged for him. "No!"

But Envy was changing, there was no denying that the eyes were darker. At first, Greed thought he was only falling back into his usual form, a way of getting his own back at the last moment, but Greed was wrong – the body shivered beneath his hands, and Dante's face grinned back at him, sweetly, demurely, as only Dante could. And it was too late. The muscles of Envy's changing body bunched and coiled around his cock. The sensation scrambled his brain and when he fell forward in orgasmic climax, he fell onto Dante's breast, with his hands in Dante's hair, with Dante's eyes burned into his memory and Dante's voice crooning in his ear.

And the only thing Greed could think of was how much he hated Envy. He groaned as his orgasm wracked the last ounce of strength from his limbs, and he mumbled into Dante's throat, "You bastard …"

* * * * *

Envy fell back against the couch with a small sigh of pleasure as Greed spasmed, shivered, then stilled against his body. The bigger man was breathing hard – anger and revulsion warred on his face as Envy's body shifted one final time beneath him, and Envy's eyes looked up at him from Envy's face.

"You bastard." Greed's voice was toneless.

"I know." He hadn't gotten what he wanted, of course – but he never got what he wanted, not with Greed. He didn't even know what he wanted. But he refused to let Greed have it all his own way. He'd won, even if he was miserable. He'd ruined that moment for Greed – and it was a cruel thing to do, really. Dante had tortured him, had done her best to end his life, and Envy felt a thrill of triumph when he realized that he had been right, that Greed did fear her. Greed's expression had been worth it.

Greed's heat pressed down on him, keeping him immobile, and it was just as well – Greed had pulled out of Dante's body so fast you'd think he'd been scalded, and Envy still hurt vaguely from the swift retraction.

And he suspected he was about to hurt far more in a minute.

Greed pushed himself up onto his elbows and locked eyes with Envy. Envy stared back, gave him a sickly sort of grin. He was beyond bullying, beyond intimidation. Greed could hurt him all he wanted now – Envy knew what he feared, what was real for him. It didn't heal the ache, it didn't fill the void, but it could fuel the fire of his simmering rage. He grinned, wincing, and waited for Greed's anger to find him again.

For one long, interminable minute, Envy thought that was the end right there – he thought Greed would tighten the hands that had come to rest around his neck, and be done with him.

Go ahead, Greed. I won't fight you on this, you bastard.

Instead, Greed sighed, and lowered his head to rest on Envy's chest with a low, pained growl. "How long does this game go on, Envy?"

Envy struggled to find his words. The weight of Greed's head on his chest was warm and comfortable – if he didn't think about it too much – and he was still aching and charged. But he swallowed his body's physical human responses and fought Greed's rhetoric. "As long as you let it. You know what I want."

"You don't even know what you want."

Envy nodded. "That, too."

* * * * *

Greed moaned and closed his eyes. Somewhere between the pain and the fear and the frustration and the rage, he felt a twinge for his broken sort-of sibling. Envy was fighting against something that he'd accepted, long ago. "I want impossible things too, Envy – but we're just … static appetites. You think it'll help? The stone? It won't. Humans weren't built with a purpose – they just are. But us … we were made. Our desires control us – it's the best we can do to try and live with what we have. We don't have the option of getting any better. So don't live in hope, Envy. Hope is what keeps humans going. It's what drives them. But this thing – this hope – it can't drive us. You'll go crazy if you let it. Don't you get it? You're doomed to hate him, just like I'm doomed to hate her. We're doomed to hate each other, in our way. At the end of the day."

He opened his eyes, but didn't quite have the courage to look into Envy's face. He didn't know what would meet him there. "Even now, even after I've said that, all I do is want. I would take you again in an instant if I thought it would make things better for me, or if it wouldn't make my craving worse, but it does and it always will. Why do you insist on doing this to us, Envy? It won't make anything better."

Envy let out a sigh – long, slow, irritable, impatient, and Greed realized for the first time that Envy's hand had rested on the nape of his neck as he'd lain there on his stomach, whining and bitterly lecturing. That he'd never received a sign of intimacy from Envy, not even before Dante had tried to kill him, when things between them hadn't been quite as fucked up as they were now. That maybe Envy had known and accepted what Greed had to say, before he'd said it. That maybe this small gesture was as close as Envy – as close as either of them – could come to an apology.

Greed knew Envy well: he wanted what he couldn't have, he ran on rage and hate, but … Envy was here in his arms, and that ran in the face of everything else. Greed, for a moment, wondered if Envy hadn't been pliable at one point, maybe – pliable enough to ruin … maybe it was Dante's fault. Envy was the first, and Envy had been an experiment, but maybe he had been – once – capable of … more …

"Maybe you're right," floated Envy's voice, somewhere above Greed's misery. Greed looked up – Envy's head had fallen back, and he was staring at the ceiling. "Maybe we're never supposed to be happy … satisfied. You have to fight to consume, and I just … have to fight, I guess. For what I want."

"What do you want?"

"Why are you asking me? You always knew better than I did, just so you could deny me. You're sort of a bastard like that."

They lay still, exhausted with their own anxiety.

You have to fight to consume.

That much was true. He was always consuming, always following that mindless thrum of pleasure in his breast, and that was the only thing that satisfied him, even momentarily.

And yet Envy's hand was still on his neck – it neither offered nor insisted, but simply rested there. A sign of apology? Defeat? They were one and the same, when it came to this twisted thing between them.

Greed pulled back from Envy's body and pushed himself up, so that he was raised high above him. Envy looked up with his dark, slanted eyes, but he didn't look angry – simply sullen and tired. 'What now, Greed?' those resentful eyes seemed to say. But he made no effort to shift, to defend himself. He'd won this round, he'd torn the mask off Greed's fear, and he would take the consequences, because there was nowhere else for him to run. He couldn't escape himself, his own wired-in compulsions.

But maybe Greed could.

For a moment.

Without speaking, without meeting that resentful gaze, Greed bent down to kiss the soft skin of Envy's stomach. Envy's body jerked into motion, and he let out a little strangled cry of surprise. He pressed his hands against Greed's shoulders as if to push him away, but they were tentative – he was unsure what game Greed was playing. Greed ignored those indecisive hands and kissed the tight, toned plane of Envy's stomach. He could feel the lust stirring in him again, that all-consuming, mindless drive, but he beat it down within him and felt a pang when he reminded himself that this body in front of him wasn't his, would never be his.

"Greed," snapped Envy, torn – as always – between pleasure and anger, "what are you – "

Greed's arm snaked up and grabbed one of Envy's wrists – he wasn't so far gone that he was going to trust Envy, because Envy was tricky – but Envy didn't fight it, because he wasn't quite sure … and so Greed was rewarded by a gasp of sheer shock when he pushed aside Envy's garments and closed his mouth down over Envy's cock.

Envy's head fell back and his hips bucked forward as Greed's lips slipped over his foreskin and brought him to aching attention.

* * * * *

"Greed, stop," Envy gasped, but he didn't know why he said it – this was unfamiliar, this was terrifying, this was exactly what he wanted and Greed was giving it to him. Greed.

Greed didn't stop; he swatted Envy's protestations away as easily as he'd twisted Envy's wrist above his head. Envy was in a world where his words were less than useless, and it didn't even matter any more.

Why stop?

This wasn't what he'd ever asked for – he'd never asked for this, yet Greed was giving it to him free of charge. Greed was giving him this of his own volition.

"Stop …"

The word made it out of his mouth but Envy didn't know how or why, because he certainly wasn't going to tell Greed to stop, and anyways he was finding it increasingly difficult to think about why Greed was doing this because all his mental processes were overwhelmed with the sensation of Greed's body against his own, and Greed's mouth on him, and Greed's tongue laving the length of his member.

Envy felt tears on his cheeks and wiped them clumsily away with his free hand, and part of him wondered vaguely why but the rest of his brain was gasping and grappling for purchase against reality as spots danced across his vision. The blood began to drain from his head as Envy approached his climax. His body felt like it was spiraling upwards into the night, and Envy moaned, unsure if it was because of the pleasure or because Greed's grip had tightened on his wrist. All he could focus on was the strange, incongruous sight of Greed's bowed head between his legs.

"Greed!" gasped Envy, as the orgasm wrenched his body free of all encumbrances.

For a moment, he was … sated.

And then the moment passed, as all moments do, and Envy was once again acutely aware of the pain in his body, of why he'd been sent there, of his weak, post-orgasmic limbs and of Greed's long, toned body still pressed against his.

"Greed …" he began, but thought better of it.

They were silent for a moment longer, then Greed made to get up off the couch.

"Wait," Envy gasped, and reached out. Greed didn't meet his eyes. Perhaps he was ashamed of his own moment of compassion, but Envy didn't make him speak, didn't force him to acknowledge anything. He simply reached out with a shaking hand. Greed groaned, but he yielded to the slight pressure and put his head on Envy's panting stomach. The sweat cooled on their half-naked bodies as they lay, breathing together.

Envy closed his eyes and leaned back, unsteady and uncertain but still strangely sated – was that the word? Was that how this felt? One of them would break the peace, one of them would push the other way. In a moment, Envy knew, everything would be back to normal, and he focused on the sensations to keep the anger from seeping back into his mind. Greed's hand on his hip. Greed's head on his stomach, lips pressed to the skin wetly. Greed … just there…

* * * * *

Greed couldn't look up, couldn't open his eyes – because Envy was so tricky. He'd fuck Greed over in an instant if he had the chance, and Greed had just given him ample opportunity. Envy had the weapons, now. And no, it hadn't been enough, and yes, he wanted more, always always more, but to give felt so different from taking that maybe this could stand on its own, regardless.

And still Envy didn't move. Greed was on tenterhooks, waiting for the barb, waiting for Envy to dart out at him again, to attack him, but Envy was still, and time crawled achingly forward.

Greed reached up, without looking, and placed his hand over Envy's heart. Not a human heart. But maybe its beat felt like one, because pointlessly, pointlessly, it beat. They had seconds left, maybe, before one of them shattered this – this – whatever this was, between them. But they had seconds.

~ Fin ~

* * * * *

This wasn't how I originally intended it to end. It got a little cheese-ball on me ("you only hate me because you ~luuuuuuuurve~ me!" / SEX SOLVES EVERYTHING) but I simply had to finish it – I couldn't have it preying on my conscience any longer. :) I had to force a few things instead of letting them play out on their own, but it ended up staying (pretty) true to my original idea, so I'm relatively pleased.